After the End of Days
by Randomnormality
Summary: In the wake of the apocalyptic battle between Lucifer and Michael, those of us still alive strive to give this harsh life a meaning. I watch over those in my care and keep it that way. Full Summary Inside. Not Destiel. Cas/OC/Dean (slow progressing) and Sam/OC (different OC)
1. Chapter 1

**After the End of Days**

**Summary:**

It's been a year since the world crumbled at our feet. Many people died when the battle between Lucifer and Michael happened, as the scripture stated, a third of the human population was wiped off the face of the Earth, followed closely by a third of sea life, vegetation and animals. Major metropolitan cities were hit first, those left in the wake of The End traveling to find companionship, food and clean water sources. The large depletion of the population forced many dark creatures, creatures thought to be nothing more than myths and legends told to scare people, to come into the open, feeding on the flesh of what had become a near-endangered species.

Of course, in trying times, people learn what to fear and what to accept. For instance, you'd think vampires, werewolves, demons and other dark creatures would be the one's worth fearing most. Unfortunately, people learned quick that it was other humans they had to fear. Humans desperate are often most dangerous. Accepting that the world was no longer what it had once been, it was harder on some more than others to accept such a drastic change. Humanity no longer existed as it once had. Laws and rules are quickly broken as people fight for the will to live, without hunger or thirst, without fear of creatures or other people looking for a quick meal. It wasn't unheard of that some people grew so desperate they resorted to cannibalistic tendencies.

Some of us managed to find companionship, a sense of camaraderie, even in the desolation. Some people search for whoever remains behind. Some people grouped together with people they know and trust, in order to deal with the harsh conditions. My make-shift family is no different. We trust and rely on each other, each assigned certain duties, and to be honest, we are keen to trust strangers.

Even if they managed to save the life of one of my own.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**Author's Note**:

This story is an AU after season five. This is a 'what if' scenario following the idea that the battle between Lucifer and Michael had actually happened. Don't worry, this story will contain Sam in it, as Castiel still pulls him from the Pit, but he isn't completely 'Soul-less Sam', but his soul carries scars from being Lucifer's vessel, which causes flashbacks.

This story is most likely going to be a Dean/OC/Cas and a Sam/OC (a different OC) fic. It will be centered around character development and conflicts that people go through during trying times.

* * *

**Chapter One****  
Due Away With Fear**  
_'One of us had to step up, take charge, and I knew I had to be the one to live without fear.'_

* * *

It had only been a stroke of luck, that we had found a cabin, hidden in the depth of woods and off the beaten path. After the world around us fell apart, people dying or simply disappearing, we immediately grouped together, collecting various weapons, food stores and gallon jugs of drinkable water. We all set off, looking for a place to call our own, hoping to get away from the chaos rioting around us as fear gripped the hearts of every human across the continental U.S.

Coming across the abandoned cabin, from what appeared to be some kind of summer camp housing, we immediately set out to rig up traps keeping would-be attackers from sneaking up on us. It took a few months for the house to finally come together, the lake a couple miles down river a perfect reservoir of clean water, and unfortunately the surrounding woods harbored little-to-no edible vegetation.

Some were put to work, setting up a garden to harvest produce. Those with knowledge in technology rigged the few vehicles they acquired to run on solar-powered energy, rather than gasoline, as gasoline quickly became obsolete. The few children our group acquired were put on duty to clean up and were trained on how to use weapons if the need ever rose. We all tried to keep the kids as unaware of the outside world as we could, but somethings can't be helped. Those of us remaining were put on hunting and retrieval, we hunted for what animals we could find and if supplies ran low, we would pull a three day retrieval operation, traveling to one of the nearby cities to gather whatever we need. It was during hunts and supply runs when we would lose some of our own.

As the months progressed and more than just humans began attacking us on our supply runs, we realized we that we had to be careful, more careful than we first thought. To keep the deaths of our group to a minimum, we decided that only five of us would head out to get supplies. The majority of the time, the five that go out consists of Matt, Paul, Theo, Kay and myself. Matt and Paul both grew up hunting deer and such that it helped to have their understanding of weapons (although, after months, it was second nature to carry weapons on your person at all times). Theo, mysterious as he is, is quite efficient when it comes to fighting, and he seems to possess a high tolerance for pain and often was the only one to return without a scratch on him (the lucky bastard that he is). Kay, a childhood friend of mine, had grown up studying occult. Honestly, I didn't understand the appeal, but she swore up and down (even back then) that occult creature were as real as we are. I wish I had believed her, we probably would have been more prepared during the first months.

Me? I'm no one special. I studied martial arts when I was younger (while Kay busied herself with books on folklore and mythological creatures) so I am a decent fighter, capable of holding my own. The fact that my entire family had been massacred right before my very eyes, something seemed to just click. Perhaps it is constantly being on edge, keeping an eye out for danger. Maybe my quick judgment calls and decisions made people just...fall in line. Whatever the case, I found myself somehow appointed leadership over our camp. Not that I am the best candidate (I would have voted for Theo). I never viewed myself as a person to lead people. I never really enjoyed having people rely on me for guidance (my sense of morale has always been a bit on the grey side). Hell, even in school, I opted to have someone else take point on group projects.

Although, Theo says I have a natural ability (a gift as he calls it) to assess a situation and come up with a quick plan. He says I was blessed at birth with the traits a leader must possess.

"Hey," My thoughts push back into the back of my mind as I look up, Kay's hazel-brown eyes looking back at me, a gleam of concern and curiosity, "Matt and Paul have everything ready for us to head out."

I nod mutely, dropping my heavy, boot-clad feet from the table top. Shrugging on my black, well-worn, duster jacket (Kay wearing one in similar condition), I step over to one of the drawers, pulling a pack of cigarettes we managed to horde from an abandoned convenient store. Slipping the pack into one of my pockets, I grab my shades off of the desk before following Kay out of the room. Exiting the cabin, I instantly pull my shades over my eyes as the sudden sunlight flashes before me. Out of habit, my gaze moves over the entire encampment, women busy tending to the garden with the two youngest girls in tow, men chopping wood and preserving meats for the winter ahead of us. It may not seem like much, but a small flicker of affection tugs within me as I observe the people making up my psuedo-family.

"Jack!"

My attention turns from inspecting the camp toward the tall, lean-muscled Theo. His mess of blonde hair stands in nearly every direction and despite the situation we find ourselves in, his light blue eyes gleam with exuberance. The grin on his face has often reinforced my self-assured appointment of being the camp leader. If his hair was any darker and his eyes more grey than blue, I would swear he was my brother. Sadly, I know it is impossible, but the sentiment remains.

"Everything ready to go, Theo?" I ask, walking down the small series of wooden steps, heading to the two vehicles packed up and ready for the supply run.

"Aye, Jackie-dear. We are good to go slicing and dicing our way through town," Theo says, his ever-present grin making me inwardly question his sanity.

Then again, sanity varies upon perspective. Shaking my head, I give Paul and Matt a hand gesture as Theo climbs into the truck with them. At the sound of Classic Rock music filling the air before the squealing of tires spinning too fast too soon, I shake my head at the antics of men. Honestly, they get too much enjoyment out of killing things. Climbing into the driver's seat of the beat-up, 69' Mustang, I wait for Kay to shut her door before racing after the three idiots.

"Did Mary let you know we need more hygienic items?" Kay's voice inquires, breaking the silence between us.

As much as we both enjoy our music, much like the guys, we have a habit of talking. It kept my sanity from jumping the proverbial fence and it kept Kay from getting twitchy (she has a habit of getting hyper-aware of situations as her imagination runs wild with her thoughts). To be honest, if Kay hadn't always been there, I most likely would have lost it with all the pressure.

"Yeah," I say, nodding distractedly, quickly glancing at her from the corner of my eye, "You and I have the list for food, hygienic products and we need to see if we can find batteries. The guys are going to try and acquire some more weapons and ammo."

"Hey, Jack," I hum in acknowledgment, "Do you ever get scared?"

"In the beginning," I pause, having never really talked about my feelings since accepting the role I had been forced with, "I was. At first, it was the fear of the unknown. Then it was the fear of failing all of you. Unfortunately, as time passed, I just stopped fearing it all. Why are you asking me this?"

"I miss the old you," Kay admits, "I miss seeing you laugh, or smile, or go on a freak-out rampage. I sometimes wish it hadn't been you."

"One of us had to step up, take charge, and I knew I had to be the one to live without fear," I reply, turning to give her a small, half-smile, "Being in the position that I am, and during this day and age, I can't afford to react to the idea of fear."

"Do you think things will ever go back to the way it was before all of this?" Kay questions with a soft sigh.

"Even if life does manage to go back to what it was, the things we've had to do, the things we've seen, would haunt us for the rest of our lives," I admit, seeing the dark gleam in Kay's gaze before I turn my attention back to the road, "I do know, the only thing we've got going for us, is us."

My words seem to cause the forlorn gleam to leave her hazel gaze and the small squeezing sensation around my chest cavity. Silence falls between us again as we see the distant buildings marking our destination. Locating the truck, I park behind it and we climb out of the car. The guys approach us, Matt placing down a map of the city. For a short amount of time, we all study the map, Kay and I paying attention to the blue marker 'x's', while the guys focus on the red ones.

"What's the plan, Jack?" Paul asks, his question causing all eyes to turn on me.

"It's simple. You guys, start here," I point to the red 'x' furthest away from our rendezvous point, "and work your way back to here. Kay and I will head over in this direction. This mission should take no longer than thirty minutes, since the town is small. Sync your watches now," Each of us inspect our wrist watches to make sure we all have the same time, "If one of the teams makes it to the rendezvous point at the marked time, wait _only_ ten minutes if you can. If you are being followed, you guys are to get out immediately."

It sounds cruel, to leave someone behind, but when it comes to a matter of self-preservation, it doesn't appear that cruel anymore. The days of moral obligation has long since passed, as we fight, kill, and steal in order to survive. It may have been wrong at some point in time, but a moment of hesitation is the moment someone should expect to take their last breath. A hard, bitter fact to swallow, but a lesson that is expected.

* * *

I hiss inwardly as I follow Kay's retreating figure, stumbling around the corner of an alley, my shoulder bumping against the corner of a building. Ignoring the flare of dull pain, most likely yet another bruise to add to my ever-growing collection, my hands work to remove the empty magazine from the pistol. Tossing it to the ground without much thought, I stagger around another corner as I dig around for another clip.

"Jack, behind you!"

Reacting on instinct alone, I turn on heel as my secondary hand slaps the clip in place, the trigger finger of my right hand pulling back on the trigger. A year ago, I would have vomited over the idea of causing someone's brains to splatter against a wall, but seeing blood and grey matter coat the horde of people behind us, I feel only a sense of regret that I had not noticed their presence before hand. Unloading a few more rounds to try and slow them down, I turn my attention back to Kay's retreating form.

Catching up to her, I grab her by the back of her jacket and yank her through a nearby doorway, clapping a hand around her mouth to keep her labored breathing muffled. As five sets of footsteps pass by the doorway, shouts of splitting up, I give another minute of silence before dropping my hand from Kay's mouth.

"I need you to get back to the rendezvous point," I command, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait? I thought we were going to get Matt back?" Kay questions, as both her and Matt had a sibling relationship, and I can see the heartbreak at the thought of losing him in her eyes.

Squeezing my grip on her shoulder, I give her a pointed glare, "I am going to see where they have him. You, you need to get back to camp."

"I can't leave you out here alone!" Kay hisses, trying not to raise her voice.

As gentle as possible, I firmly shove her back against the adjacent wall, hoping the command shows in my gaze, "They most likely took Matt to get coordinates to our camp. They won't kill him until they get what they want. I can't save him if I am worried about you."

Kay's fury fades into a somber understanding, "You promise you will come back. I don't want you to save him if it means risking your life."

"I may be reckless, but I am not stupid," I amend, earning a stifled laugh in return, "Kay, _if_ something does happen, make sure Theo keeps to his promise."

"What promise?"

"He'll know which one I speak of," I say, not bothering to elaborate as I gently pull her away from the wall.

Kay gives a small grin, "Alright. Since I'm faster than you, I will try to drag them away from this area."

Giving her a mocking salute, I fight down the small bout of worry as she takes off. Waiting until I am sure I am safe, I check the clip of the gun once more before stepping deeper into the shadows of the alley. Finding an old fire escape, I climb up to the rooftop of the building. As the majority of the buildings are close together and not that high from the ground, I begin to free-run my way through town, keeping an ear out for any voices. As I get further from the rendezvous point, I begin to hear the sound of skin-meeting-skin and taunting voices. Skidding to a halt, I make sure to keep to the shadows as I peer over the edge of the building.

Seeing the familiar mess of auburn hair surrounded by four men, I take the moment to check if he has any series injuries. Even from this distance, I can tell his breathing is labored, most likely due to the blood coating his shirt, but from this distance I am unable to tell where his injury is. Pulling my second pistol, I carefully aim both guns to two of the four men beating on Matt's haggard form. Two cracks fills the air, blood coating Matt's face as the man in front of him drops to his knees, the bullet tearing through his back. The second bullet pierces through the side of another man's head, his body crumbling quick. As the remaining two men raise their weapons, I quickly pull the triggers of my guns once more, letting bullets fly through the air.

As the bodies of the remaining two men drop to the ground, I carefully scope the surrounding area before dropping to the ground level. Groaning as the tingle from the landing travels up my legs, I stumble toward Matt as he struggles to climb to his feet. Before his body hits the ground as his knees buckle, I duck and hook his arm around my shoulders, helping him stand upright.

"You broke your own rule," Matt coughs out, his bottom lip split open and coated red with blood.

I snort, readjusting my grip on him as I begin to guide him through the dark alley ways, "Yeah, well, we all know I refuse to let someone die on my watch if I can help it."

Silently, we continue weaving our way through town by alley ways. The burning sensations along my shoulders and legs from excessive weight is ignored as I press forward, my determination cemented in my personality. Turning down another alley, I feel Matt's knees completely give out, my grip on him failing as his body crumbles to the ground. Instantly turning around, I kneel in front of him, checking over his wounds. Shrugging off my jacket, I grip the bottom half of my t-shirt as I pull my butterfly knife from the side of my boot and quickly slice through the fabric. Ripping the bottom half of my shirt off, I quickly tear it into long strips before dressing the bullet hole along the right side of his stomach. Quickly looking it over, I thank whatever deity exists that it seems to have missed major organs and arteries.

"Come on, Matty. We need to get-"

A crack sounds from behind us and I hiss as the heat from a bullet grazes across my arm, ripping another hole into my jacket. Quickly using what little strength I have left I drag Matt back around a corner, pushing him further into the shadows. Using the moment of coverage, I quickly exchange the magazines in my pistols and click the safety off of each. Standing up from my crouched position, I pause as a fingers grip my pant leg.

"Don't..." Matt coughs out, trying to keep me here, "Take yourself and get out of here. They need you."

I tug my leg from his grip, "Sorry, Matty, but if there's a chance we can get out of this alive, I'm not leaving you behind."

Inhaling deeply, I push away all other thought as I duck behind a dumpster for cover, catching sight of six men standing at the mouth of the alley. Crackles fill the air as bullets fly. The chaos leaves a ringing in the air as I duck and take aim when possible. More tears mark my jacket as close-calls as I watch bodies crumble, one-by-one. An intense, burning pain scorches through my right shoulder as a bullet manages to hit and I grunt as I feel the hot metal exit and fly behind me. Using the moment of the man needing to reload, I stand and take aim. A hollow void encompasses my insides as I watch the final body drop, becoming yet another corpse to add to the ever-growing amount.

Staggering back over to Matt, I lean against the wall and slide down to sit next to him. Keeping one of my guns at the ready, I rest my head on his shoulder as my other hand clamps tightly at my profusely bleeding wound. Thankful that it seems to be over, I glance over as a rustle sounds, Matt moving in a way that causes me to lift my head from his shoulder. As he pulls his shirt over his head, exposing the bruised, scarred expanse of his torso, I blink as he hands the piece of clothing to me. Giving him a weak, half-smile, I quickly wrap my shoulder in the make-shift bandage, biting down on one end as I tie it off.

"Thanks, Matty."

"Don't ment-"

I clap a hand over his mouth, feeling him hiss as my palm brushing along his injured lip. Motioning for him to keep quiet, I tap at my ear to signal him to listen, as rushed footsteps approach the mouth of the alley.

"The gunshots came from here," a husky voice states, the footsteps slowing down, most likely at the sight of the cooling corpses littering the ground.

As the steps sound closer, I lift my gun from the ground and rest the but against the top of my thigh, waiting for them to pass by the dumpster. As a foot passes by the dumpster, I pull the trigger, but the click signaling an empty clip causes me to freeze. Looking up, I meet a pair of stern moss-green eyes, the determined gleam fading to worry and surprise.

"Hey, are you two okay?" a second masculine voice asks as a taller man steps out from behind the green-eyed man.

"Come any closer, and I'll rip your throats out with my bare hands," I hiss out through clenched teeth.

"We aren't going to hurt you. We have a first aid kit and it looks like you and your friend could use it," the tallest of the two men states.

"C-Can't...t-trust...an-any-one," Matt murmurs out, his words becoming slurred from the loss of blood.

A heavy sense of weariness begins to creep through my body and I fight to keep my eyes open, hell bent on protecting my friend. Knowing that I won't be able to get Matt back to the rendezvous point, I blink the fuzzy sensations away as I look back up at the two men standing, unsure of what to do. Hazel-brown eyes gleam with worry as moss-green eyes seem to be conflicted in what to do.

"If I feel either of you will screw us over, I won't stop in hunting you down," I hiss out, my own words slurring together.

The tallest of the two kneels down to lift the barely-conscious Matt as the shortest one helps pull me to my feet. Stumbling, I glare at my weak legs as strong arms hooks under my own to hold me upright. After being lead to a rundown motel by the two strangers, I struggle to keep myself aware of my surroundings as I am forced to sit down on the old, spring mattress. Immediately looking over to Matt as the tallest of the two lays his (recently) unconscious form, I flinch instinctively as fingers brush along the wound.

"Sorry," the husky voice murmurs, my eyes shifting up to the green-eyed man as he unties the cloth around my arm. "I'm Dean."

"Jack," I respond curtly, earning a cocked eyebrow, "Why are you helping us?"

"Figured if you and your friend did all of that damage," Dean states, referring to the horde of dead bodies, "You guys were only trying to defend yourselves." I grunt, unsure of how to respond. "This is going to need some stitches."

My gaze immediately turns to focus on Matt, the protective instincts to stand by family causing me to watch as Dean's companion stitches the wound on Matt's side. Even as the needle pierces the tender flesh around the wound, the thread slipping through and a tug following to close the wound, my thoughts travel. Who is this Dean? Who's his friend? Why did they help us? In this day and age, helping strangers is a quick way to your downfall.

"Hey! Woah! Come on, stay with me here!"

The husky voice drifts through the haze of shadows and, despite my instincts to stay awake, I feel my entire being pulled into the void of darkness.

* * *

**Random here! It's been awhile since I've written anything and for some reason this story won't leave me alone, so here is the beginning to a new story. Please, let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**After the End of Days**

**Summary:**

It's been a year since the world crumbled at our feet. Many people died when the battle between Lucifer and Michael happened, as the scripture stated, a third of the human population was wiped off the face of the Earth, followed closely by a third of sea life, vegetation and animals. Major metropolitan cities were hit first, those left in the wake of The End traveling to find companionship, food and clean water sources. The large depletion of the population forced many dark creatures, creatures thought to be nothing more than myths and legends told to scare people, to come into the open, feeding on the flesh of what had become a near-endangered species.

Of course, in trying times, people learn what to fear and what to accept. For instance, you'd think vampires, werewolves, demons and other dark creatures would be the one's worth fearing most. Unfortunately, people learned quick that it was other humans they had to fear. Humans desperate are often most dangerous. Accepting that the world was no longer what it had once been, it was harder on some more than others to accept such a drastic change. Humanity no longer existed as it once had. Laws and rules are quickly broken as people fight for the will to live, without hunger or thirst, without fear of creatures or other people looking for a quick meal. It wasn't unheard of that some people grew so desperate they resorted to cannibalistic tendencies.

Some of us managed to find companionship, a sense of camaraderie, even in the desolation. Some people search for whoever remains behind. Some people grouped together with people they know and trust, in order to deal with the harsh conditions. My make-shift family is no different. We trust and rely on each other, each assigned certain duties, and to be honest, we are keen to trust strangers.

Even if they managed to save the life of one of my own.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**Author's Note**:

This story is an AU after season five. This is a 'what if' scenario following the idea that the battle between Lucifer and Michael had actually happened. Don't worry, this story will contain Sam in it, as Castiel still pulls him from the Pit, but he isn't completely 'Soul-less Sam', but his soul carries scars from being Lucifer's vessel, which causes flashbacks.

This story is most likely going to be a Dean/OC/Cas and a Sam/OC (a different OC) fic. It will be centered around character development and conflicts that people go through during trying times.

* * *

**Chapter Two  
****Crimson Rains Down On Me**  
_'They are the only reason I still walk this Earth.'_

* * *

When a person, especially in a role of leadership, sleeps, they have a habit of waking up before their eyes ever open. It is a trait I have mastered as the endless void within my mind begins to fade. Soft snores greet me first and after a moment of simply listening, I become aware of the unfamiliar snores filling the air. Those snores forces memories to flood back into my mind and my eyes snap open immediately. The stained ceiling greets me as the blurriness fades from my vision and I slowly sit upright, aware of the dull pain tugging at my shoulder. Turning toward the other bed, I sigh in relief to see the familiar auburn-haired man lying unconscious on the bed, his chest raising and falling with each breath he takes. Looking around the room, following the sound of the soft snores, my gaze travels to the floor between the beds. The two, vaguely-familiar men sleeping on the floor reminds me that Matt and I were saved by strangers.

Pulling back the thin sheet, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pushing myself to my feet. I bite back a hiss as my knees threaten to buckle, but glancing over at Matt's unconscious form, the determination within my growing stronger as I force myself to take a step forward. Slow, and as silent as possible, I move around the foot of the bed, but the moment I step on a certain spot, a creak emitting from the movement. I barely have enough of a time to react as a hand clamps around my ankle. As tight fingers grips firmly, I turn on spot and slam the heel of my bare foot on the top of the hand.

"Son of a bitch!"

As my ankle is released, I stumble to the opposing bed. Ignoring the masculine groan behind me, I check Matt's pulse, breathing and trace a finger along his side to check his wound. Running a finger along the decent stitch work, I look him over once more and inwardly sigh as I realize he would be fine. Turning back to the two men, the shortest rubbing the back of his hand while glaring at me with irritated green eyes.

"Was it necessary to crush my hand?" Dean hisses out between clenched teeth.

I shrug nonchalantly, "I reacted on instinct."

The tallest, whom I don't recall introducing himself, had walked into the kitchenette and offers a sealed bottle of water. Inspecting it, it _is_ possible to poison a sealed bottle, I twist the cap off before chugging half of the contents. Letting out a breath of relief, I seal back the bottle and turn my gaze on the tallest of the two.

"Thanks..." I trail off, not knowing his name.

"Sam," the tallest supplies, giving a small smile in return.

I nod, falling silent as I try to ignore the sudden awkward feeling growing around us. The silence allows me a chance to observe the two men that saved us. Both are human as far as I can tell. Sam, while taller and with a more lean, muscular build, Dean appears to carry more bulk to his build. Sam's features show compassion, yet a low level of weariness, while Dean's gaze is hardened with a layer of distrust and, now that neither of us were going to die, they seemed blank for the most part. Both of them wear several layers of undershirts, t-shirts, long-sleeved button-ups and a jacket of some kind thrown over the layers. From the quick inspection, I realize Dean seems to harbor more responsibility and a heavy weight on his shoulders, though there seems to be a sense of loss in Sam's disposition.

"Can you stop staring?"

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I blink before pulling my gaze toward the husky voice, "I apologize. Again, though this is not normal, thank you for saving me, and Matt."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Dean retorts, earning an elbow from Sam, "What? We only did it because they were ganged up on and you have a conscience."

"As if you don't," Sam argues, rolling his eyes.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

I almost feel as though I am intruding on something as I watch the irritation lift lightly as both smirk at each other, "So, is it just you two, then?"

"Yeah, just us," Sam states.

"What's it matter?" Dean questions.

"I only ask because it is rare that people travel relatively alone," I respond, rubbing my injured shoulder lightly.

"Most of the time, it's only us," Sam says, tilting his head slightly, "What about you and your friend? You both were out by yourselves?"

"Supply run," I state curtly, unwilling to grant them any more information.

"Are you familiar with the surrounding area?" Sam questions, to which give a hand gesture indicating a 'sort of' familiarity, "See, we're Hunters."

"Are we talking deer? Or are we talking _wolves_ and such?" I ask.

Dean snorts from his position leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, "We're talking about the _wolves_."

"So, what are you guys doing out in this area?" I ask, my fingers beginning to tap against the table, the need for nicotine humming along my nerves.

"Our uncle, another Hunter like us, informed us of a vampire nest that seems to be on the hunt for something. We tracked them from over one-hundred miles West of here. A friend of our's went ahead to follow their trail and it seems like the nest caught wind of something East," Sam states.

I snort at the thought. Vampires. They are nothing like television and movies depicted them to be. I remember the first time running into one, watching them feast on the blood of a living human. It was disturbing and it was then that I realized the world I knew would never return. After Lucifer and Michael's Apocalyptic war, the creatures of occult lore began coming out in packs, bloody massacres seemed to happen everywhere. It wasn't long after that the humans left in the wake began traveling further inland toward farm country, or South to live off of what was left of jungle habitats and with warmer, brighter climates.

Wait...Sam said East.

"Fuck!" I curse as I launch to my feet, ignoring the jolts from both men as I stumble over the toppled chair to Matt's bed, my hands gripping his shoulders, violently shaking him, "Matty! Wake up!"

"Dude, your friend almost died, let him-"

Dean's words are cut off as Matt's fist lashes out, forcing me to duck under the reflexive blow, my right arm hooking around his extended left, "Matt! Wake the fuck up, now!" The urgent command in my voice causes his eyes to snap open, and without second thought to his injury, my fingers grip tightly around his shoulder as I hoist him upright, "Matt, we have to go, now!"

"Whaz goin' on?" the sleep-induced slur coating Matt's words, and I watch as Matt blinks away the sleep before noticing Dean and Sam, "Who the Hell are they?"

"Occult Hunters that saved our lives, now get out of the fucking bed! We need to go," I command curtly as I release him and turn to the two men, "What time do you reckon it is?"

"It's mid-afternoon, why? What's going on?" Sam questions.

"You said this nest is heading East-"

"Nest?" Matt's voice cuts me off, his eyes flashing with awareness, "Heading East of _here_? Fuckin' Hell!"

I ignore his curse of pain as he places a hand at his injured side, nodding to him as I continue speaking, "We have an encampment of refugees East of here. How large of a nest are we talking?"

"Twenty or so. The bloodsuckers numbers have imploded in the past year," Dean states, becoming aware of the situation as well, "How many refugees do you have?"

"Six women, nine men, eight teens and four younglings," Matt counts off, knowing I refuse to keep count, as the numbers we lose mounts higher.

Both of the men curse, Dean turning to Sam as he says, "It's a like a damn buffet for them."

"It's not as easy getting in as you think," I inform, "but I'd rather not take the chances. Do you have a means of transportation we can use?"

"Not that you can _use_, but we are willing to help you," Sam suggests, Dean nodding in agreement.

* * *

As the Impala (a rather nice car if I say so myself) comes to a halt at the edge of the dense woods, I immediately climb out, my gaze immediately locked on the sun as it sinks slowing in the Western horizon. It's only a matter of time before the bloodsuckers manage to arrive at this point and a familiar tension mounts on my shoulders. Shaking the tension loose, I ignore the small twinge in my shoulder as I stand at the ready. Faint sounds of doors shutting and Dean and Sam's voices saying something about weapons in the trunk fills the air softly as Matt's profile appears in my peripheral line of vision.

"What are we going to do?" Matt's voice asks softly.

Thinking over the best scenario possible, I lick my slightly chapped lips before saying, "You, get to the camp, let everyone know what's going on. Your injury is going to hinder you in this fight, so I'm placing you in charge of protecting the kids. Make sure the men and the older women have weapons on them and are at the access points in case any of them come through the line. Send Kay and Theo into the woods, make sure the traps are set. Tell Kay to meet me here when that's done, Theo and Paul can stand at the other access point with whoever is willing to fight out here."

"Gotcha, Boss," he responds in turn, causing me to give a half-smirk at his smart ass remark.

I turn my attention to Dean and Sam as they approach, each baring a machete in their grasps and crossbows with Dead Man's Blood coated arrows. I suppose they really are legitimately Occult Hunters. Dean extends me a crossbow, but I shake my head in refusal.

"You need some form of protection," Sam states.

Hearing faint footsteps approaching from the woods, I nod silently in response as I turn my attention to the ebony-haired woman bounding out of the brush. Kay seems to ignore the two men and instantly I find myself tensing as she launches herself at me. Groaning inwardly at the emotional display, I pat her back, amused how very little she's changed personally.

"Thank God you two are alright," I cock an eyebrow in response, Kay grinning with a shrug, "Not literally, mind you. Here you go," Instantly, I take the machete, inspecting it lightly as Kay turns her attention on the two men, "Who are they?"

"Tall one is Sam, the other Dean. They're Occult Hunters," I manage to catch a gleam of surprise and great interest in Kay's hazel gaze, "They saved me and Matty."

As Kay's weariness of them fades, she gives them a strained smile, "Thanks for that. I'm Kay."

While Sam insists it wasn't a problem, I feel a pair of eyes staring at the side of my head and glance out of the corner of my eye to see Dean staring at me, "Are you expecting us to stand here and head off twenty vampires?"

I hear Kay snort in amusement, trying to cover up her laughter, "If we willingly followed someone with that thought pattern, we would have died within the first month," I shift in my stance, uncomfortable with her backhanded praise, "Although, I am curious about what we are going to do."

"We are going to have their full attention. When they display that, and they will, they are bound to come after us, and force us deeper into the woods," I state, motioning to the trees behind us, "Sam, Dean, both of you are unfamiliar with our set up, so I encourage you to follow us, exactly as we go. Any wrong move and you could end up dead."

"How is going deeper into the woods going to help us?" Sam questions.

"We have several traps set up in among the trees. Believe us, those bloodsuckers won't realize it until it's too late," Kay's response causes me to snort in bittersweet amusement.

"Can't they just follow our own path?" Dean points out.

"Kay and I will go get everything set up. If you don't mind keeping an eye out for them. Let us know when you see anything approaching."

Venturing deep into the woods, Kay and I immediately remove our butterfly knives from their hidden places on our persons. With a curt nod, we remain silent as we split up. Dragging the blade of the knife along my palm, I move carefully around the traps, pressing my blood-coated palm against various trees. It is a fact that vampires acquire heightened senses of smell, hearing, sight and taste. Using our blood to spread our scents around could help throw them off (Believe me, this isn't the first time we've had to do this).

"Are you sure they can be trusted?" Kay asks, her voice weary as she glances back toward the direction we left Sam and Dean in.

I snort as I run my bloody palm against the rough bark of a tree, "They offered and extra set of hands. Since they're experienced, and I'd rather not lose anyone, I figured they could slice up some vamps as much as they want."

Kay flashes me a knowing smirk, "They seem legit."

"That's what I thought," I supply with boredom as I feel more bark cut into my hand.

"Hey, we spotted something!"

Dropping my hand, I lead Kay through the trap-free path and as we both come to stand by the two men, my focus narrows in on the dark shadows approaching, closing the distance quickly. Inhaling deeply, I roll my shoulders and shake the nerves loose. As the guys move to remove their machetes from their sheaths, I hold out my hand to stop them.

"Trust me. You won't need those at first. Just follow our lead," Sam and Dean nod, Dean more reluctantly, and I turn my attention to Kay, "Are you ready?"

Kay nods, bringing her fingers to her mouth before letting out a signature whistle, four whistles echoing in response, and I nod once more before mentally counting down as the nest covers more distance. Waiting for the opportune moment, I feel the subtle tension surround Sam and Dean, both unfamiliar with how we do things. Seeing them cross a familiar mark, I raise a hand, fingers splayed out.

_Five_. I curl a finger down.

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

As my fingers curl in sequence, I relax my fist and shows a small slight of hand to Kay. Instantly, Kay taps Sam on the shoulder, catching his attention, before she sprints into the woods. Seeing Dean hesitate in following, I turn and give a firm shove, forcing him toward the trees as I cover the tail end. Hearing the familiar hisses, and snarls from a close distance, I urge the group faster. Seeing a red hand print, I push Dean across the invisible line, known only to the few of us that marked the area, and I skid around to a stop.

"Jack! Are you out of your freakin' mind?"

I stare down the four vampires leading the forefront of the nest, their feet pounding quick and heavy. Feeling a hand grip my shoulder, I calmly take a step back as two vampires launch themselves at me. A smirk spreads across my lips as the thin, nearly invisible, silver wires strewn between tree trunks slices through their skin, like a hot knife through butter. A startled huff of surprise sounds from the person gripping my shoulder as arms and heads of both vampires sever from their bodies. The two vampires following the two are forced to bring themselves to a halt, but fail to stop in time, the silver wires slicing through their bodies from their own velocity.

"Holy shit," I hear Dean murmur as I shrug the hand from my shoulder.

"Kay, this is where we must split up. Sam, Dean, one of you go with her, the other will follow me. We will cover more ground if we split up," I instruct.

As Sam ops to go with Kay, I watch as the remaining vampires pause, looking for ways around the silver wires. Nudging Dean, I flash him a small smirk before I raise my lacerated palm, displaying it for the bloodsuckers to see. Hisses of anger fills the air and I chuckle (not completely without sadistic intentions) before flashing them my middle finger.

"What are you doing?" Dean whispers in my ear.

"Trust me, Dean. The more angry they become, the less they think and the more they react. Do you see the markers along the trees?" I murmur gently, causing Dean to glance around, his gaze alert and recognizing the pattern among the tree trunks. Seeing him nod, "Trust in the markers. They will guide you through the traps. White, stay left of the tree. Red, stay right. The traps are more than just silver wires."

Hearing a snap of a twig, I remove the machete from its sheath, sensing (more than actually seeing) Dean mimic my actions, as I turn to view three vampires managing to get around the line of wires. Giving Dean a curt nod, we both lunge for the bloodsuckers. Sadly, their movements are quick and fluent and I hear Dean grunt as one manages to throw him into a nearby tree. Dancing away from the grasp of the male vampire in front of me, I try to fight him off to the best of my ability, my mind working on how to slow him down. I grunt inwardly as my back hits a tree trunk, my body reflexively ducking beneath the clawed slash aimed at my face. A hiss escapes my lips as a the vampire's nails manage to scrap along my left cheek, and in response, I lift my machete and move it in a vicious slice. Cold blood sprays across my clothing as the blade severs the vampire's head and quickly taking count of the numerous vampires that seem to appear out of nowhere, I pull at the weapon in my hand. A snap of a twig sounds again as I try to remove the machete (as it seems to have buried itself in the trunk of the tree), I instinctively crouch down before shoving off of my center of gravity. A sickening crack sounds and I briefly glance down to see a female vampire pull her nails from the tree, I catch the hanging tree branch above me and flip myself into the tree.

"Jack! What are you doing?" Dean calls out as he slices through another vampire with practiced-ease and I inwardly admit a begrudging sense of respect for his obvious knack for hunting creatures like this.

Ignoring his question, I climb higher into the tree before seeing the hidden notch. Swiftly, I use my butterfly knife to pick at the notch. Opening it, I smirk dangerously at the rigged frag-grenade as I remove it from its sealed container. Wiping away the crimson staining my fingers, I pull the pin and release the grenade, letting it land in the middle of the small horde of blood-thirsty creatures. As my gaze lands on Dean, I realize he might be caught in the crossfire, I crouch on the branch before launching myself at the unsuspecting man. Tackling him into the nearby brush, I groan as we tumble along the ground and as we stop, I open my eyes to see Dean glaring down at me.

"What the Hell was that-"

**Bang!**

Dean instinctively ducks and I let out a small yelp as his forehead collides with my own, "Son of a bitch!"

"What did you do?" Dean groans, rolling off of me and pulling himself to his feet.

Standing upright, I motion to the motionless mass of bloodsuckers, the strained veins along their pale skin showing, "Frag-grenade that has been holed up in a secret notch in a tree. Inside the notch, it set in a container of Dead Man's blood."

Dean flashes me a surprised smirk and claps me on the shoulder, "Nice."

Startled by the small dose of familiarity from the gesture, I shake it off before following Dean. Retrieving my machete, I help Dean take care of the surrounding, paralyzed horde. As this became easy pickings, my mind drifts to Dean's gesture. Is it normal for people to act like that around near-strangers? Perhaps it is a defective trait in his personality? No. He mostly has other defective traits. Maybe he uses gestures of familiarity to make some kind of connection to people? He appears to be a people-person, though something tells me he is more introverted than he appears to be.

* * *

After the whistles (signaling that all was in the clear) pierced the air, I find myself leading Dean to the camp. Stepping into the clearing, I allow a soft smile to tug at my lips as I see everyone seems to be just fine. Some seem to have minor injuries, but I am pleased to see we didn't lose anyone. Stalking toward the cabin, cheers and praise greets me, and I nod curtly before moving up the steps. Stopping as I manage to come to the porch, I turn to face everyone. The relieved chatter filling the air causes the edges of my lips to twitch in response before I raise my hand, calling everyone's attention.

"As most of you know, yesterday morning, the others and I performed a supply run, in which Matt had been taken hostage by another group. I backtracked in order to save him and in the process, both of us were far to injured to make it back to the rendezvous point. I was sure Matt would have died if it hadn't been for these two men, Sam and Dean," I motion to both of them, "Without their selfless act and their knowledge of the nest heading here, our camp would have been wiped off the face of the Earth. So, tonight, we eat, drink and enjoy this moment as we welcome Sam and Dean into the safety of our camp."

Cheers of thanks fills the air and both Sam and Dean seem surprised by my words. Giving them a curt, respectful bow of my head, I turn on heel and enter the cabin. Ignoring Matt, Paul and Theo conversing at the table, I strip off the blood-stained t-shirt and toss it in the basket of soiled laundry. Hearing footsteps, I glance in the mirror of the bathroom as Theo hands me a small pail of water.

"Thanks, Theo," I sigh before I completely submerge my head in the ice, cold water, I slowly breathe out of my nose, allowing the cold water to soak into my blood-soaked hair and stained face. As the subtle sting from the scratch on my cheek pierces through the veil of thoughts, I pull my head up and, without looking up, I take the offered towel from Theo, "How is Matty fairing?"

"Good. Those boys ya' brought with ya' seem to have some clear knowledge of mendin' wounds, no?" he states, as I pat my face dry, running the towel along my soaked hair.

"Yeah. They're alright, I suppose," I respond, giving a small smile of reassurance to my friend. "Do you mind fixing this for me?"

My suggestion for him to take care of the scratch along my cheek seems to be a moot point as he already starts applying some ointment to the cut, "So, these guy really be helpin' ya' for no reason other than to help ya'?" I give a small nod, ignoring the small twinge of sharp pain, "I guess I can accept that. Ya' said their names are Sam and Dean? Any chance of gettin' a last name?"

"Because last names are so important this day and age," I spit out sarcastically.

Theo snickers as he blows softly along the wound when a clearing of someone's throat sounds at the doorway. Looking up, I see Dean standing within the doorway. Theo's light-blue gaze examines Dean for a brief moment, an odd gleam (a look I've never seen on Theo's face) travels over his features before a strained grin tugs at his lips.

"I think I'm goin' to join Kay an' the others outside. Might as well get myself a drink, no?" Theo comments, winking at me playfully before ruffling my hair briefly before pressing his lips against my brow, "I'm glad you are alright, luv. No more heroics in the future."

I snort, both Theo and I knowing I won't make a promise I know I can't keep. Theo chuckles, brushing pass Dean with a small pat on the shoulder. I shake my head at Theo's antics before glancing at Dean. Quirking an eyebrow at his blatant staring, almost as if he is uncomfortable with my bra-covered breasts (but surely, a man like Dean has seen a pair of breasts before), so I look down and realize all of my scars are on display. To break his sudden concentration, I shrug on a shirt and run a hand through my mess of curls.

"Something on your mind, Dean?"

Dean shakes his head, as if trying to clear his mind, and he gives a half-smile in an attempt to lighten the mood, "So, you seem to command their attention pretty well," I quirk an eyebrow again, kind of confused, "Sorry. You remind me of someone I met before. He was in a position of leadership, but unlike him, you aren't willing to sacrifice a single person in your camp."

"I like to think a leader is only a great as their followers," I admit, giving him a weak smile, stepping out into the night air, the smell of deer meat cooking over an open fire filling the air with a hearty aroma, "The followers will only carry a leader so far. They are the only reason I walk the Earth. I would have given up long ago if it wasn't for them."

"For what it's worth, they respect and trust you completely," Dean states.

I shrug noncommittally as Kay looks up from her seated place next to Sam, the two bent over one of Kay's Occult Texts, and I smile softly as Kay's bright grin stretches across her face and she waves exaggeratedly in a manner that only she can, "We all have people that help us keep our humanity," I state, giving a small wave in return, Kay turning back to the book.

"You and Kay are close?"

I nod, "She's been my friend since we were kids. A little different in the head concerning the Occult beliefs, but I wasn't exactly a normal kid either. She's family."

"Yeah," Dean sighs, "Family."

Glancing at Dean briefly, I realize why Dean seems so familiar. While we are obviously of different backgrounds and carry different traits, we have some similarities in our personalities. I've seen the look in his eyes before. Protective. Watcher. Guardian. Justified. Righteous. I've seen the same gleam in my own reflection.

"Do you have a way of contacting your uncle?" I ask, realizing he may need to send a courier message.

Thinking it over briefly, Dean nods, "Yeah. I have a way of contacting him. I'm starving, so I'm going to get some grub."

I motion for him to go ahead and I watch as he immediately seems to immerse himself in the crowd of feasting camp members. As he greets Sam and Kay, I notice a level of familiarity between the two men. Not so much in their words (as I am too far to hear) but instead it seemed to show in their comfort level with each other. Dean stood, eating, but his eyes constantly ticked back to Sam, and once locating him, they would turn back to who he was speaking with. Seeing the protective gaze, I knew what they never said.

_Family_.

* * *

**Well. That's the end of this chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed it!**

**Winterfellsfallenangel: Thanks luv. I'm sorry I made you almost cry. I hope at some point I can get you to crack. It would make me giggle with glee. (insert evil laughter here)**

**To those following the story (or as I like to call you all my silent Minions) Thank you.**

**YAY! NEW EPISODE IN ONLY A HALF AN HOUR! (Excuse my excitement. My Winchester-Castiel withdraw hits hard) Please, leave a review. Let me know if you enjoyed reading it and if you don't, let me know what you don't like, or what you think needs improved. I write these for my benefit and to find ways of improving my writing.**

**Again, thanks for reading, please review, and enjoy the new episode.**


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